Insanity
by warinbabylon
Summary: Just a small story written while listening to Axis of Insanity: a series of vinettes starring Tegan and the Fifth Doc
1. Chapter 1

"This is the kingdom of dead end lives, Doctor," the voice rumbled. "Dead end lives and your little mistakes."

There was a lilt to the voice that reminded Tegan of madness, cold, bleeding, overwhelming madness. The face in front of her swirled and changed, at once feminine and masculine, at once old and young. All that remained constant was the mad, grating laugh and the red satin that the…being…wore.

"Oh, not only my mistakes, I assure you," the Doctor muttered in return. She felt, rather than saw, his hands slide into his trouser pockets. The sounds of the material pulling harshly taut over his skin and muscle were reassuring. She knew that sound; it was familiar like her face in the mirror. "I'm not the only Time Lord in the cosmos, you know."

"You have given your fair share-"

"Everyone has given their fair share," the Doctor responded back hotly. "Every aborted thought, every forgotten action, every…"

"Every regretted lack of action?" the jester asked sweetly.

"What's he going on about?" Tegan interjected. She grabbed the Doctor's forearm in a vice like grip. When she did so, the world flushed purple and gold. So bright were the surroundings that her loudly colored dress appeared dim.

The Doctor absentmindedly patted her hand, but his voice betrayed his agitation at the question. "Have you ever felt the pull at a moment when you feel as though there was something you just had to do, Tegan? Like an ache to do something, a thought that just wouldn't go away? That's what he's talking about…crossroads in destiny."

"You can see that here?" She asked quietly. The thing that she looked at appeared like a still fountain. Although water constantly cascaded down the crumbling and rotting stone, it ended in a small pool which didn't ripple, didn't move according to the entrance of the liquid. Even the sound was strange: there was no drip at the end, the reverb one expected from the drop.

"Everything!" The jester shouted and danced in a circle. "Everything in a Universe of nothing. Beautiful as poetry."

"Not all poetry is beautiful, some of it is painful," the Doctor supplied.

"Watch closely, come closer," the jester implored as his spindly finger crooked to draw them closer.

The Doctor's hand pressed against Tegan's back to bring her along side him as he stepped to the fountain. "As we're a bit of a captive audience-"

"We don't have a choice," she finished under her breath.

"What is it that you want us to see?" the Doctor asked as he drew near.

"So much to choose from, so many mistakes. But in order for you to get through this world, Doctor, you'll need a friend and their trust, their unwavering support…"

"He always has that," Tegan responded with heat.

The Doctor gave a smirk to the joker and shrugged his hands into his pockets. "I wouldn't test Tegan's loyalty; she rather takes it personally."

Still, he frowned and leaned back on his feet to stare at the deep water. Tegan shifted her weight from foot to foot. With an agitated sigh, she glanced up at her friend. "This isn't helping us to find Turlough…" she groused.

"We'll find him; hush," he reminded her. "What," the Doctor emphasized and leaned forward to pin the being dressed in bad silk and satin with his stare. "What is it that you want me to see?"

"A crossroad not taken," the jester said cryptically and smiled so widely that Tegan felt his teeth were an entity of their own. "Look closely and then begin your travel…"

The world seemed to drift away when her attention was drawn to the still fountain. It was like a train wreck; it held her attention in a morbid way. At first there was nothing, and then there was an image. At first it was fuzzy and the like a shock, like seeing yourself in the mirror after a night of partying. She saw herself, looking different than she felt inside, standing next to a large stone pillar. It looked very like a great deal of rock formations she had seen in her travels, but was identifiable by their glowing sapphire color.

"Herdin…" she breathed. Herdin was a quiet planet where they had only been shot at once instead of constantly. Their main point of being there was for the beauty and when they had finished helping the ruling party to iron out mishaps, they had had time to enjoy it.

She knew the exact moment they were seeing: at the apex of the mountain, amongst the ancient statues and the rocks that formed their places of worship, she, Turlough and the Doctor had gathered to view an initiation. They sat, under the full moon, dressed in the native dress of the planet, of the sect, by the largest of the stones. Below them, in the circle, the voices of girls and women raised in praise of the harvest.

She watched herself leaning back into the stone, smiling and relaxed, letting the breeze and harmony wash over her. The Doctor sat to her right, quiet with his arm over the boulder, higher than her shoulder. Turlough sat to her left, his eyes closed. In remembrance, she knew that the boy was asleep.

"It's…"

"One of the most beautiful things in the cosmos," the Doctor supplied with a small grin, finishing her sentence. "I know."

She glanced up at him, shivering as a high note was reached by the group below. For a moment she was swept away on the tune, warmed and happy. The Doctor's hand fell to her shoulder and she felt him squeeze it in response. "I try to come here when the travels become dangerous and overwhelming…" he s aid with a sigh.

"Once a week then?" She asked cheekily and then quieted. "Did you…"

"After Adric?" he asked and then shook his head. "No, Tegan, although it was needed."

She nodded slowly and then turned her gaze back down at the collection of people in the clearing below. "I can see where it would be a form of relaxation."

"Quite," he agreed.

Tegan sighed and closed her eyes. She knew the feeling she had had as the Doctor's arm had laid heavily across her shoulders, as she had felt his chest drawing a long breath and an equally deep exhale against her body. The sight of his leg straightening next to hers and the cool feeling like summer linen being near his body gave her were incredibly intimate. And as Turlough was asleep, his words were terribly personal, only for her ears.

At that moment, as a breeze ruffled her hair, she had felt a need, a pressing aching need to act, but she remembered she had squelched it.

With a sigh, she turned to him, and tilted her head up, pressing her lips gently against his chin. His breathing stopped and she left her lips against his skin, her hand slowly touching his cheek. As she shifted to allow herself to get closer to him, to move her lips to his, she felt heat, a tickling in her loins and yet a wonderful flooding feeling of perfect relaxation…lust and familiarity all in one.

She could feel it almost as if she sat there…down to the coolness of his lips as she saw them press against hers, gentle and cool. The surprise as he didn't pull away. Like a drink of cool water, his lips opening in encouragement and the feeling of their tongues meeting in a gentle, easy, wonderfully primitive dance. It was like second nature, like a summer breeze.

Feeling his hand cup her head, his thumb tenderly turning her face from his, levering a little, her leg lying on top of his and feeling the bulge of his thigh muscle. Cool hair brushing her cheek as he pressed his lips against her throat, a breath against her skin, her name said in a hoarse whisper that made her toes curl. Lips against her ear…hands closing over her ears to turn her back to face him…strength in the touch and yet tender. Trembling in her own lips, a gentle nip from him, and her own fingers in his hair…

Taking a deep shaky breath as she felt his thigh tense and tighten…felt the material tighten, stretched tight over his groin in response to her touch, his body leaning …his breath tight…a light moan, a breath like a tickle against her lips before he leaned in again to kiss her…

And then …sudden mortification…she sputtered into action…

"That never happened!"

The image faded.

Next to her, the Doctor stood stock still. There wasn't even a breath to expand his chest. Blinking she stared at the still water, willing it to drip away. And then, she held up her hands in an effort to ward off the evils of the Universe. "That never happened," she pressed.

"Yes," the joker replied, his voice light and mocking. Tegan shuddered at the tone. "Yes, it never did happen, did it, poppet? But you wanted it to." He rocked back on his feet; his slim artist hands crossed over his stomach, and fixed her with a stare. "I can feel the want, my dear…taste it…it tastes rather like butterscotch: slick and sweet on the tongue. Oh, you wanted to-"

"Yes, that's enough," the Doctor rumbled lowly. His hand tightened on Tegan's. "She's human and as such as strong emotions when it comes to interaction…and strong imaginations…they go hand in hand with the dreams, you see."

"Ah, so it is her-"

Tegan frowned. "It's my mouth and mind…human…" she nearly spit out. She shrugged the Doctor's hand off of her elbow.

The Doctor cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Her overactive imagination…"

The joker turned his black eyes to the Doctor and smiled widely. "Only hers?"

Tegan didn't dare glance at the Doctor, but felt him as he straightened his spine. It was an arrogant pose and one that she knew well. It made her feel more comfortable.

The joker shook his hand slowly. "Oh we shall see, Time Lord: watch and see."

Dark hall, lights in the ceiling swinging with each impact vibration overhead. Small bits of ceiling – debris, dust- fell on his head as he walked along the dimly light corridor.

He was tired even for him. Both companions had been missing, lost on a planet at war for days. He had recently found them again, or rather, located them. Nyssa was currently sleeping; Tegan was somewhere about. The only thorn in his side was the fact that they had to recover; he was impatient to move on.

The sound of water splashing broke through his reverie. He slowed; Tegan had mentioned a shower. They were pursued, although not immediately, and had to leave. A shower, a nap was all that he could allow, all that time would allow.

The sounds grew louder; the shower was behind the door. He opened it slowly and stepped inside. He could detect Tegan's signature smell, he knew it was her. He turned and closed the door and wearily reached to rub his neck. As he opened his mouth, he turned to urge her to hurry, to finish with her washing and dry and dress. It was time to leave.

He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't Tegan naked and in clear view. With a deep breath, he realized he had expected at least a stall or some sort of barrier to spare her from his view. Feeling the flush of embarrassment, he started to turn away.

"Mardia," Tegan breathed.

The Doctor nodded his mouth dry.

And then he saw the bruises.

Deep purple ones on the back of her shoulders, another set like fingers on her arm. A scar- a new one, on her upper back thigh.

Hissing through his teeth, he moved forward, towards her. She had seen more action, had been hurt more than she had told him. She had been quiet; Tegan was never quiet; why hadn't he noticed? She only yelled at him when inconvenienced; this was an entirely different situation.

"Tegan," he said words and movements full of purpose.

She responded by turning towards him. Her eyes were glassy from lack of sleep, her movements ladened with exhaustion. As he neared, he could feel the heat from the water.

"Doc? Hell's teeth! What-"

"Face me," he ordered. Embarrassment was forgotten. He stopped just a couple of feet from the water spray. "Do it, Tegan."

Her expression grew angry, shocked. "If you don't mind- I'm naked."

"I do very much mind, Tegan. You lied about the extent of your injuries."

"I'm fine," she yelled back.

"With the conditions inherent in the environment here, lying about your injuries could precipitate infection," he warned. "Turn to me."

"I'll look and tell-"

"You'll do as I say-"

"So nice of you to take an interest in our wellbeing, finally."

"Do it," he rumbled.

Tegan, probably in a snit of anger, turned to face him. The water was at such an angle that it continued to pour over her body. Her hands were balled into fists, her arms tight.

His gaze clinically took in her body, falling from the bruises he saw on her neck to the cut on her upper chest, bruises like fingers on her right breast, more small cuts (one actively bleeding) on her front upper thigh and a tenderness he could see in the way she kept the right side protected. When his eyes ventured back to hers, skirting her hips, waist and breasts because he couldn't avoid seeing what was presented in front of him. Finally, he saw the angry-hurt look on her face that only Tegan could give him.

"Are you through?" She asked with bite.

He found his voice was hoarse and harsh when he said: "Who-"

"Just rough handling," she clarified as she turned back into the spray. "Nothing more than that…and if you're done?..."

The words drifted off. He could hear the pain in her voice; physical pain and humiliation tied up in the brash tones of her words.

A feeling of shame, anger and tenderness flooded him. She wasn't one to cause harm to herself and often was loudly against such treatment in others; she wouldn't have allowed harsh treatment of herself if she could have helped it. Someone had forcibly treated her poorly.

The Doctor inhaled slowly. He remembered the feeling of wanting to comfort Tegan no matter how awkward the attempt. But, he had turned and left the room, he remembered, and left her in solitude.

The water shut off, leaving the room to echo with the sound of dripping water. She walked toward the far wall and a small alcove. He stopped her with a word. As she slowed, he walked to her. His hands closed on her shoulder and turned her to face him. A wince from the pressure of his hands made him take her gently in his arms. Tegan stood stoically in his embrace until he pressed his lips into her hair; he could feel the moment she began to cry. It frightened him, made him feel uneasy and wary, to experience the shaking of her body with silent sobs. Her arms slowly came to rest, weakly on his waist. As one sob broke free from her lips, he drew her in closer, carefully, but determined to be her friend, someone who could (would) comfort her.

"When?" He asked, his voice caught between a painful hoarseness and directness. "Who?"

A deep breath; he could feel her chest heave with the inhale, her wet skin soaking his shirt, her breasts resting against his skin.

"Just a fight; nothing more than what I usually…I didn't want them to get Nyssa. We needed her. Two days ago, but we're…"

Her words came out in a jumble, fighting to get out of her mouth, syllables and vowels blending together in a rush.

"You're pale, bruised, cut…" he muttered. "Who?" Even to his ears, it sounded like a demand.

"Mars, if you must know. But he's worse off than I am."

He felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. Worse off indeed. The anger passed, bleeding from him before he knew fully what he was feeling. He pulled away slightly to see her face. His hands, palms were cupped under her chin to make her look at his eyes. He wanted to smile. ..to let her know that it was all right, that her spirit was appreciated.

In the dim light of the shower, her brown eyes looked deep and clear, but worry filled. His fingers framed her face. "Brave heart, Tegan."

"It's a bloody awful phrase," she commented. "But it did help."

He chuckled and in a moment of sudden decision leaned in to kiss her lips. He was happy that there wasn't more wrong; that there wasn't pain, that she was all right. The bruises would heal; he didn't like the fact she had been manhandled, but there was no lasting damage. The kiss was meant to be quick, he didn't know why he did it; the need to connect was only a flash. But then her lips were pliant and warm, matching her skin and the water that slowly ran in small rivulets down her body.

And she didn't pull away; her body remained easy and relaxed in his arms. It was like a gift, and for a moment, he wanted to continue to have the connection. He wanted to experience the touch, the caress; he could smell the water on her skin, smell the sweet tanginess of her hair…it was Tegan, a friend, a women who embodied fire.

Burn or warmed by her….he didn't know…

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow and swallowed hard. He absentmindedly brushed his fingers down his chest, expecting to feel moist material against his skin. Beside him, he could hear Tegan's breath coming in short bursts, as though shocked and weathered.

"What?"

He glanced sideways at Tegan when she whispered the word. Her lips were open and slightly plumb, he decided. With a slight cough to clear his throat, he tried to give her a little smile. "A thought…"

"A thought?"

His smile widened. He wondered momentarily if she knew he was stalling for time.

"Well yes, Tegan…." He slid his hands into his pockets and looked at his feet. "A…"

"A thought," the joker broke into the conversation with a flourish. "A regret, a wonder, a wish…" He nodded to the fountain. "This marvel shows you that which you have thought about, the node at which you made a different decision, a branch, a change in course if you will…"

"Dreams?" Tegan said, her voice tight and harsh as if stretched over the words.

The joker smiled widely and clasped his hand in front of him. Like the Cheshire cat, Tegan found she could only concentrate on the grin. As she did the face faded from view. "Hey!"

The face continued to fade until all she could see was the fountain. It dripped in lonely solitude.

"What was that all about?" she asked quietly. The Doctor made note that she didn't meet his gaze.

"What is the best way to conquer a group, Tegan, when they have proven that they're stronger in force? Hmm?"

"Divide and conquer?"

"Right," he agreed and then narrowed his eyes as he glanced at the fountain. "We're very much on our own here, and I think he wants to throw a spanner in the works. Balance is needed here."

Tegan sighed and nodded, reaching to rub her arms. Balance, yeah…right, Doc, she thought viciously. How can I keep my balance if I'm picturing….that…in my head?


	2. Chapter 2

"Why does it look like this?"

Tegan's voice carried across the barren scenery, sounding off of the brown and blood red rocks in the path. "It looks like this is an easy representation of the world to your eyes. After all most space can be based on math and what we are seeing here are improbabilities, possibilities and misaligned incomplete equations. Trust me, you would much rather see it as we do now." He sighed. "Besides, what you are experiencing is the best representation in the real time envelop of temporal possibilities and probabilities, mistakes and mishaps…temporal…"

"Zaps?"

With a slight smile, he nodded. "All right, yes, Tegan…like small temporal zaps."

"And this place has all your interferences in the time line…this is where all the mistakes you made are kept so as to not make the Universe…well…disappear."

"Yes, well, I wouldn't quite put it that way…"

She frowned. "Well at least that joker person has left us alone."

He glanced warily over his shoulder at her. "I wouldn't plan on him remaining without affecting us indefinitely."

"Why's that?"

"Because we are making progress," he replied as he narrowed his eyes in contemplation of the surrounding scenery. "We need to go in an easterly direction. And before you ask, I know that because that's where your other-worldly friend appeared. The dimensions are weak there; a cross-bridge probably exists. That's our best way back to the TARDIS and Turlough. As he has our ship, well…it leaves us little else than using the dimensional bridge to find our way out of here. Besides," he continued as he pressed against her back to keep her moving. "We are still a cohesive team, on the same side, facing off a bowler side by side as it were. He failed in that respect. And there is always our entertainment value."

Tegan bit her lip and continued to walk along at his side. She hadn't wanted to talk about that damned fountain; his nonchalant, I'm-lecturing-you tone wasn't helping matters. With a sigh, she stepped around a large stone formation. "So you're saying that'll happen again- that fountain thing."

"Undoubtedly."

Her voice sounded shrill even to her ears when she answered him. "So what do we do?"

"I would advise staying calm, Tegan," he said with a wide smile on his lips. "We'll get nowhere if you lose your head."

Her stare at the back of his head was comically vicious.

When he turned towards her, he gave her a sheepish look. "By my estimates, we only have 2-4 more hours of travel before we find this rift. He can't intercept us too many times; it takes too much of his energy reserves."

"So?"

"So, Tegan, you will only be confronted with images from your own mind and from his distance, I reckon he can't delve too deeply into your mind. Keep your thoughts devoid of whatever you don't want to be confronted with…"

"Only my mind?"

"Yes, well, Tegan," he muttered. "When one is confronted with someone else's memory and has a somewhat empathetic constitution, they'll have…"

"A similar memory…"

He cleared his throat and kept his eyes away from her. "Yes, well, when one is confronted with someone else's memories and has a somewhat empathetic constitution of mind…their brain will remember similar…"

"You…"

"Do keep up, Tegan," he warned. She glanced at his face. Under the brim of his panama hat, his eyes were steadfastly staring at the surrounding scenery. With a sigh, she glanced down at her feet; the black leather shoes were coated in red dirt. "I'll never get that off of them," she groused. "And why make us look at a rendition of the Sahara after having us in that fun house?"

His eyebrows were well arched over his blue eyes as he reached back for her hand. He hauled her up the slight barren hill and then answered her in precise tones. "Why? Were you having fun?"

Tegan rolled her eyes and took advantage of the moment to viciously swipe the dirt from her clothes. "No, if you must know, but it is more…"

"Interesting."

She growled under her breath. "Yes, more interesting to look at. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't finish my sentences…"

As she stood aright, she noticed that the scenery had changed yet again. They were standing in a circle of mirrors, much like she had when possessed by the Mara. Only this time, each of the mirrors reflected a different color; reds and blues, and greens and yellows, purples, magentas and some colors her eyes couldn't identify. They danced with light, seeming to fill the entire world around her until vertigo threatened to overwhelm her. Overhead (from everywhere) obnoxious carnival music could be heard.

"Well, poppet, you look rather ill."

Tegan struggled to get her eyes to focus. "Yeah, no thanks to you," she moaned, desperately longing for something cold on the back of her neck.

She latched onto the warning issued by the Doctor. While the world spun, she centered her thoughts on the most upbeat things she could think of: Nyssa. Her friend long gone; there were only good memories associated with her: warm friendship, surviving and caring.

"Why, dear, concentration can make you particularly green."

"Bully for you," she replied through gritted teeth. "So does this freak show you have going on here."

"Oh." The voice sounded hurt and surprised.

The Doctor's voice was equally peeved as he answered the joker. "Yes; your idea of entertainment and ours are very different, it would seem."

His hand rested against the back of Tegan's neck; the coolness was what she needed to calm her stomach. "Deep breaths, Tegan, and close your eyes, it will help."

"Figures your sight isn't affected," Tegan groused.

"Oh, it is; Time Lords have iron stomachs."

"Typical."

The voice heaved a loud sigh. "There is only so much one can do to a human. Pity, I quite liked the decorating."

After a moment, the Doctor patted the back of her neck and told Tegan to open her eyes. A slow blink brought into focus a single mirror.

"Oh no," she breathed. "Can't we run?"

"There's nowhere to run," the Doctor whispered back. "He - or rather IT – would find us wherever we went. But he can't physically stop us and he can't physically close the rift." The Doctor's hair blew across his brow as he stared at the now visible clown. "What a horrid coat," he mentioned.

Tegan agreed: a conglomeration of yellow and red and black and green, it was nauseating.

The clown leaned forward and the mirror's shimmered. "Correct, Doctor, I can't physically stop you; I'll let you stop yourselves."

"It's been tried before," Tegan hissed.

The clown stared down at her, the powdered face caught in a wide, sickening, distorted grin. This time there was no warning: the face disappeared and left her staring at the mirror. She found she couldn't look away.

A wave of happiness crashed over her. Although she had walked these halls before, she knew the air ducts of Terminus better than its corridors. Still, she recognized the distressed metal, the broken grates, and just the look of the place. Nowhere said end of the line like Terminus, she thought ruefully. Though she wondered why she wore the space suit. She hadn't the last time. But she knew where she was and she knew that Nyssa was there. She was going to see Nys.

The door ahead of her opened; it was opened by the small man that walked ahead of her. Tegan could see Nyssa in the room, bent over a table, apparently working hard on something. Although Nys' back was to her, Tegan knew it was her by the long curly chestnut hair and the same slim form.

"Mistress?" The man's voice was quiet, almost reverent.

Nyssa turned from the table to respond to the man. Tegan could clearly see her face; it was lined and jaundiced although she barely looked older than twenty. She knew she was in shock; the girl looked extremely ill. Tears burned in her eyes and fell; she could taste them on her tongue.

Tegan reached up and wiped the tears from her face; she couldn't draw deep breaths; she was completely engrossed and feeling reality through the mirror.

"Nys?" Tegan breathed "Nys, what's happened?"

As she reached to remove her helmet, Nyssa shouted for her to stop. Tegan could hear the rate of her own breathing increasing within the confines of her helmet. Her friend shook her head slowly. "Don't, Tegan; you can't. The pathogen in the air, Lazar's, would infect you immediately."

Tegan still fought with the clasp of the helmet to release it. "But, I can help you! We should have never left you here! You can come with us!"

Nyssa neared her. Tegan could see her ice blue eyes, wide and beautiful, with the spark of life still shining bright. But they were deep set, sunken in her sallow colored skin. As the girl neared her, Tegan could see the pain in the way she held her body; in the way she walked. Wrinkles and color changes and the look of death were in every movement.

She stepped close enough to touch Tegan's shoulder. "I've found a cure, Tegan."

With a heaved sigh of relief, Tegan smiled through her tears. "That's wonderful! What do we have to do?"

Nyssa smiled as well and squeezed her shoulder. "It only works in the early stages of the disease. It's much, much too late for me."

Tegan could feel the panic rising, like a hot lump of metal in her throat. She reached out with her gloved hand to touch her friend's face. "Nys, no."

"I'll be dead in a month, but you and the Doctor need to help disperse the cure…"

The words grew louder, swirling around her like lights, like the swirling colors in her head. "You can't die! You can't!"

She closed her eyes. "No! No!"

Hands closed over her shoulders. Naked hands on her naked shoulders: someone was holding her; she was in the spacesuit; the hands were too big and too cool to be Nyssa's.

"Tegan!"

The Doctor's urgent voice cut through the fog in her mind. Her eyes opened to see his face close to hers, his hands on her shoulders and looked very concerned.

"Tegan, it was only –"

"I told you she'd die there!" She accused him viciously, nearly yelling at him. She tried to knock his hands from her shoulders, but his grip was harsh. "She's dying there and there's nothing we can do! You left her there to die!"

"It was only a possibility; a worst case scenario," the Doctor explained gently yet in a hurried voice. "It's not the truth, not even a probable truth."

"She's going to-"

"Listen to me," he urged and bent his knees to look in her face. "Tegan, listen to me."

"You killed her."

She growled a sigh. His fingers tightened on her shoulders even more. "Tegan, she's all right. I'll take you to her after this, I promise. It was only him, only the joker. He wants this. He knows we both have to physically get to the rift; I have to sense it, you have to see it. He wants us to be at odds with each other."

Tegan quieted a little and the Doctor nodded slowly. Comfortingly, he put his arm around Tegan's shoulders. His voice was anything but comforting when he confronted the joker. "That was unnecessarily cruel."

"Was it, I wonder?" The joker responded with a giggle in his voice. "After all, my dear Doctor, I wasn't the one to leave her in such dire circumstance."

"Nyssa survives," the Doctor reiterated, his voice growing hoarse with anger. "Damn you, you centered in on one of the most solid, most comforting thoughts Tegan has and shattered it."

The joker, the clown clucked his tongue and shook his head. "Such a fragile species."

"Such a resilient one," the Doctor roared. "They move and adapt throughout the entire galaxy! And their weaknesses are their strengths!"

"Resilient, are they?" The clown sneered, his blood red eyes nearly glowing in the ghastly white pasty face. He snapped his fingers as the Doctor brought Tegan closer with a squeeze of her shoulder. "Shall we see, Doctor, how resilient she is?"

The Doctor swallowed, again he knew he was viewing the mirror and felt himself transported into a situation. A construct in his mind, he knew. But it did indeed feel real. This time, however, Tegan was at his side. 'It hasn't begun yet' he thought.

"Tegan, are you all right? We can discuss…"

When she didn't answer or glance up at him, he looked down at her. "Come on, Tegan-" His voice drifted off as he saw blood on her shirt, clashing with the cheery red splashed in the color of her shirt.

His arm loosened on her shoulder reflexively and she began to crumple to the ground. As he shouted in surprise, he caught her before she could slip to the ground. "Tegan!"

Her brown eyes blinked up at him. "I feel so warm…"

The Doctor could see that the blood had spread across the entire breadth of her chest and a single red rivulet ran down her arm. Unceremoniously, he tore her shirt up the side seam; the blood was worse without the material to mask the extent of damage. One small hole was in her chest; a combat, small weapons wound made by someone who wanted the job done well the first time.

"Who?" He asked with his voice hoarse and pained. His gaze went back to her face. A small amount of blood was pooling at the corner of her red lips. "Oh no," he breathed as he picked up her head to keep blood from choking her. Glancing around, he could see nothing: no people, no formations, no TARDIS, nothing. "Tegan…"

She tried to swallow, but grimaced. "Tastes….horrible. Where's the TARDIS?" she whispered. "You have to-"

Blood in mouth, he thought, gaping weapons wound in her chest, feelings of languid warmth…"Tegan, stay with me…." He set her head down on his knee to take off his coat. Harshly he balled it up and pressed it against the wound. But he knew it was a losing battle.

"Doc?" She breathed. "This is all wrong…this way…"

He shook his head. A mirror, there was something about a mirror, he remembered, but as he watched Tegan's eyes start to become unfocused the mirror suddenly became unimportant.

"Brave heart, Doc…" She quipped in a voice so quiet it didn't sound like her own. "You've seen it…"

"Never…" his voice drifted off. He had never had a friend, a companion die this close. It was always at a distance; he never had to watch the light die in their eyes, feel their blood coating his hands or his clothes. Never had it been someone who had traveled with him so long. Never when he didn't have a chance to do something; it was happening too fast; she was bleeding out; there was nothing he could do except sit with her.

Still, he heard the words he said as if coming from a long distance away. "Brave heart, Tegan, we'll get out of this…We'll…" He stopped talking when he realized that her chest no longer rose and fell beneath his hand. Her eyes were sightlessly gazing in the direction of his face and her lips were open, as if she was going to speak, as if she had died wanting to say something. "Tegan…" he whispered. It was strange to feel the well of emptiness like a hot lead poker in his chest. He didn't want to close her eyes so he closed his. It didn't make it any better. The heaviness of his own breathing surprised him; he couldn't draw a deep breath. He bent his head and allowed the burning at the back of his eyes to release… "Oh, Tegan…"

The image dissolved and it took the Doctor several breaths to realize that he was not kneeling on the ground and Tegan didn't lie dead on his lap. But the shock of seeing her sightless eyes still made him keep his eyes closed. He felt her warm body next to his, under his arm and he blinked his eyes open. Quickly, so quickly that Tegan teetered on her spiked heels, he twisted to grab her by the shoulders. His gaze traveled over her body, cataloguing any changes and looking for wounds.

"Doc," she breathed. "I'm fine."

He drew in a deep breath and steadied his eyesight on her and half expected to see her brown eyes staring lifelessly back at him. Her tears had dried on her face and the anger that had been there was lessened, easing the slight lines on her face. His grip was tremendous, he knew, but it took him several moments to calm his hearts and take a deep breath.

The clown burst out laughing, the sound almost sickening to both their ears. It reverberated off the mirrors and they shook from the force making the weird light dance across them and the ground. "Resilient, is she? You worry for her own weakness, Doctor. She's been with you a long time and the long time goes on, you worry she'll leave you in death. After all, your friends always do leave, don't they, Doctor? One way or another…"

Tegan was shaking; in anger, the Doctor suddenly thought. "Hell's teeth, you're only showing the probable future-"

"Possible future," the Doctor corrected his voice still hoarse. "Do watch your vocabulary, Tegan; in these instances, it's necessary to have things properly defined."

She frowned, but didn't say anything. His hands were still almost viciously gripping her shoulders.

"His power must be fading at this distance from the epicenter. The further we get away, the less based on probability he can make his visions to us." Raising his voice, he addressed the joker, the clown. "Worries, plagues of our souls, that's what this is! The spokes of time lines must be getting weak!"

The clown squawked a horn and gave a wide painful smile. "But which is worse, my dear Doctor? The probability, the possibility or the unknown, hmm?" At no response the joker snapped his fingers; the mirrors reappeared as he disappeared. They were left in the scenery they had seen before he had come.

"Can it get worse?" Tegan asked quietly as she rubbed her arms. The Doctor took a couple more deep breaths and released her shoulders. He turned and contemplated the space the thing had occupied.

"I sincerely hope not," he answered.

She glanced up at him and saw his gaze on her. Under the brim of his panama hat, his eyes were dark and troubled. Tegan had traveled with him long enough to recognize the pain she saw there. "Look, Doc, I'm not going to die…"

He gave a slight momentary smile and then reached out his hand. She looked at it for a moment before taking it. Then with a nod in a direction, he led her off out of the mirror circle. "And neither is Nyssa," he encouraged. "Come on, this rift can't be too much further; I can feel it in this direction, but you'll have to see it when we get there…"

She walked at his side and he was uncharacteristically quiet, but he still held her hand in a tight, vice-like grip. "Cripes, Doc…Adric…"

He nodded once. "His death was…painful, but you, Tegan, died in my arms. I had your blood on my hands, my clothes…" She could see his mouth formed in a thin line as if he were under a great deal of stress. After a second, she watched his gaze fall to near his feet and then back up to the horizon.

"But I won't, Doc…I'm more likely to run off without giving you a second glance than to die on you…remember? I'm indestructible…"

That forced a slight smile to his lips and a squeeze to her hand. He didn't answer her back but did continue to walk the barren landscape with her fingers crushed in his.


	3. Chapter 3

Her hand ached. The pain spread from her fingers to her elbow, but she didn't want to tell him to stop holding her head. He had stopped a while back and had interlaced his fingers with hers which lessened the pressure. But still, his grip was terribly tight.

Tegan took a couple of jogging steps and came along side the Doctor. "Doc?" She was slightly out of breath and the words tumbled out of her lips.

He stopped and tilted his chin to allow his eyes to survey the surrounding scenery. When he didn't answer her, she growled under her breath. "Cripes, it's not like I don't exist, you know. You're holding my hand tight enough."

His eyebrow arched over his right eye and he slowly lowered his gaze to look at their interlocked fingers.

With a sigh, Tegan took another couple of running steps to keep up with him. It was hard to keep traction under her feet in her heels. The ground was like polished onyx and stretched as far as she could see, smooth like glass. There were no rocks or gentle rolling hills…there was only an occasional break like a crystal angle, jutting out of the ground like an accident waiting to happen.

"Does it bother you?"

She frowned, a lips a pout of red. "No, no…but…"

"It's only a short time until we're out of here," he supplied. "I think it would be better if we stayed in contact."

"I'm not going to die on you," she emphasized, reassuring and lifted their hands so that he could see them easier. "At least not without taking you with me…"

"Hmmm," he commented, drawing out the comment with the breath.

Tegan sighed as he started off again. Her steps echoed; the hollowness of the heels sounded harsh against the ground. His expression, she decided was too schooled to be natural. After about ten minutes, she couldn't take the silence (she had never been able to keep quiet) and began to talk again. Her words echoed in the vast closeness about them.

"I'll never complain about my hometown being desolate again."

"That's rather a new take for you," he wryly replied.

"This is horrible," she clarified. "It's so empty."

The Doctor jumped down a slight lip in the ground and reached up to lift her down. While his hands were still on her waist, while she was in mid-air, he asked: "You miss your hometown?"

"No," she said quickly. "Why do you think I left, Doc? Or that I took the job I did?"

"I hadn't considered it," he replied with a mild look. With that, he released her waist and took her hand again.

Tegan sighed. "Well, it's not as though I don't want to see my family again. I do-"

"Do you miss them?" The words were crisp and concise, echoing in the space around them.

His tone made her throat tighten. He sounded hurt? Saddened? "Yes and no," she admitted. She glanced down at their hands as he entwined his fingers with hers again. "I don't miss them all that much, because it doesn't cross my mind to miss them. When I think about them, I would like to see them again."

"And if I told you I would take you to visit them, if you would like?" The Doctor's voice was succinct and almost matter-of-factly.

Tegan smiled and glanced at him. His gaze was turned inward, as if he were examining his own soul. "We should continue in this direction. The rift isn't far away. I can feel it."

"Doc, why-"

"Trapped in a lifestyle, you should never be," he explained gruffly. "And if you are going to stay with me, I would rather you do it without any regrets…"

"Cripes, Doc, I'm not going to die."

"Everyone dies, Tegan. Everyone has their time. But death or not-"

Tegan frowned and surveyed the scenery for a moment. "You would know if I had any regrets, Doc. I'm a mouth on legs."

"Hmmm."

In a flurried, hurried attempt to change the subject, she ventured onto a touchy area for her. "So this joker person…"

"Will undoubtedly find us again, although his power is weakening-"

"Yeah," Tegan breathed as she stumbled a little to keep up with him. "That's what I wanted to ask you….what's this about probability?"

"Probability is a sort of odds calculation, Tegan-"

"Maths," she spat.

"Well, yes." Her outburst brought a small smile to his face. "Exactly that, Tegan, maths. It's what our lovely Universe is based upon."

"And this person is showing us…" she frowned as she tried to remember what the Doctor had said. "Probabilities, possibilities and-"

"Uncertainties, exactly," he offered. She could hear a bit of cheerfulness coming back into his voice. "He first showed us, choices in time (at a certain time) and the outcome of those choices- hence probabilities. When he stopped us the last time, he showed us possible occurrences in our lives based upon our current position and trajectory. But…" he punctuated the air with one finger. "He is using our mental state as a launching pad for a possibility."

Tegan rubbed her brow wearily. "Hell's teeth, Doc, all I wanted to ask: whether or not we should expect next. I didn't want a lecture on maths."

"So sorry," the Doctor said sounding anything but.

"Well?"

The Doctor sighed. "Fear is the only emotion strong enough for him to exploit at this distance."

"Great…"

"Cheer up, Tegan," he said with a smile. "My advice is to keep your mind a blank as possible."

She sighed and shook her head. "And this rift…how does that work?"

He blinked his eyes and continued to stare off in to the middle distance. "Like the vortex," he explained after a moment. "When the joker or whatever else you would like to call him, destroyed the caretaker here, the maintenance of the Axis has fallen apart. It left weaknesses in the encapsulation of current time and current space. The rift I can sense, but it will make more sense in a physical way to your eyes."

"But how," she started and then changed verbal tactics. "You said we have to travel in the vortex in the TARDIS. Even if there is a breach….and…"

"Yes, it is…the same vortex; yes, it is dangerous. And no, not necessarily do we need the TARDIS. I can exist for a short time. Long enough to travel elsewhere…to the TARDIS possibly…"

"So I'll stay?"

"No, the Axis will collapse too quickly…"

"But…"

The Doctor swallowed and his hand tightened on hers. "Yes, well…I think being in close proximity to me will afford you some protection…"

Tegan gave a dubious look. "How close?"

"Very."

With a sigh she shook her head. "Sounds like a rum idea to me, I must say."

"Must you?"

Tegan gasped suddenly as an icy wind whipped about her. Before she could speak, the Doctor pulled harshly on her hand and brought her flush against her side. Ahead of them, there was a swirling vortex of wind and rain. Even ice crystals danced in the matrix swirl. "Is that the-"

"No, I would sense being this close…no, no…I think it's our friend-"

"Correct, Doctor…." Rasped a voice. It shook the air, a reply from the spinning vortex.

Tegan tried to take a step back, but the Doctor's hand restrained her. The vortex swirled around them like a landlocked water spout. "Touching…"

"Quite," the Doctor rumbled in response. "You've failed."

"You're desperate," the voice responded back quickly.

Tegan squirmed as the vortex swirled around and then through her. As she shivered, both terrified and erotically teased, the Doctor's hand grounded her, his cool fingers entwining and holding her.

It was elemental; it was frightening.

Her eyes fluttered closed and then she felt rocked, vibrated. When she opened her eyes, she was standing in the console room. The ground shook beneath her feet with rhythm giving her moments of freedom and moments when she clung to the console. A pair of familiar legs stretched out from the pedestal and as she bent down, she saw the Doctor braced against the metallic surface. His long legs were used as leverage to keep him there.

His face was contorted in pain. Electrodes marred his fair unlined skin; they covered most of his brow, cheek and neck.

Something was wrong; something was dreadfully, horribly wrong.

Tegan gasped as she knelt by him; his face was so white he looked like a ghost. His skin was ice cold to the touch, but was covered in perspiration. He blinked his eyes open, weary and unfocused. Their blue was full of pain. "I can't…" he grunted through grit teeth. "I can't maintain the influx…Tegan…I can…redirect…to take…the most…the shockwave…but…I ….have to…."

She didn't know what was going on, but the twisted crumpled look of pain on his face was explanation enough for her. Her hands cupped his cheeks as his hands and feet blindly looked for, struggled to find leverage. "Cripes, Doc…"

"If….I don't….help…the TARDIS…she'll be lost…won't be able…to…control…"

Tegan pressed her palms flush against his cheeks. He was shivering, quivering with errant power from the TARDIS.

"Lost…Tegan, we'll be lost…"

"Doc…." She tried to draw his attention. "Doc…it's Tegan…"

"World destroyed…if don't…control…" he rasped out. "TARDIS will…redirect…she needs…my help…"

The situation became crystal clear as suddenly she heard a voice. "Choose, poppet…Choose…"

Tegan leaned close to her friend. "Doc…don't…Hell's teeth…you'll…"

"I don't know…." He muttered, clearly in pain. "But we…could…be…lost in time…for years…"

The voice grew stronger. "Longer than your lifetime, human. Longer than you could possibly fathom…contained as you are by stinted mortal definitions. Choose…" the voice rasped and then chuckled. The rest of the words were lost in a giggle that felt like it ripped the flesh from her bones.

"Choose what?" Tegan yelled as she stood. Another vibration shook the TARDIS and she braced herself against the console. "What choices! I only see a bully manipulating us!"

"Your friend will regenerate under that much strain. Take that as you will…"

Tegan's gaze flew back to the Doctor's face. "You monster…" she said menacingly. "How—"

"Save him, you will not destroy the planet below, but you will destroy any chance you have of ever going home, of ever seeing your family…"

Tegan narrowly glared at the spinning vortex as it materialized fully in the console room. The rain whipped out and grazed her skin, hurting like little knives, pricking her skin. "How can you! You bloody bastard. It's not an issue…"

"Save him and you'll be forced to live a life other than your own. You never…"

Tegan's voice was coldly infuriated. She stood her ground as her hair and clothes were pressed against her skin with water and wind. "It's not an issue! If I leave him connected, he'll die, he'll regenerate and he might keep regenerating…"

"Very good, human, and here I had heard your kind were stupid."

"But this isn't anything to hate him for, to lose faith in him with!" Tegan shouted. The vortex increased in shear, spinning madly in the face of her threat. "You've failed!"

The vortex spun around the console and neared her; she swore she could see a sneering face in the wind and rain. Even as it touched her skin, she lifted her chin in defiance. "Have I? Have I, pitiful human? Choose and either way you would never be able to live with yourself."

The vortex swirled away, leaving her in a vacuum of silence that only the Doctor's labored breathing filled.

Tegan fell to her knees and crawled closer to him. Her hands found their place on his cheeks again. His eyes were unblinking yet unfocused. Looking at him, she saw everything, all of the pain, all of the happiness, adventure and terror her travels with him had brought. She saw her childhood, too…her mother and father, siblings, happiness around the family table. She blinked back tears as she cupped his cheeks and searched his eyes. "Hang on, Doc…I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm going to get these things off of you."

She bit her lip and unsuccessfully kept the lump in her throat at bay as she carefully began to disconnect the electrodes. When the last one was free of his skin, the pain in his eyes and face eased and he slumped forward against her. She held him even as she braced herself and him against the console pedestal as the TARDIS began to tilt and spin. She could almost feel the TARDIS hurtling through space; a proverbial wide pitch into the pavilion. As she closed her eyes, she said quietly for the both of them: "What was it you always told me, Doc? Where there's life, there's hope? There was no other choice; I couldn't see you die. I couldn't. If that means I never get home; it means I never get home. Hell's teeth, I'm not going to hate myself, I'm not! I'm not!"

Tegan came back to her own mind feeling the Doctor's arm about her waist. A few blinks brought his face into clear view. He was saying her name softly and when she recognized him, he bestowed a smile on her. "There's always hope where there's life," he reassured. He steadied her; his arm tight about her waist as the vortex came forward and engulfed the both of them.

The Doctor saw her, sick and pained as she lay prone on a metal table. Everything looked so cold; her skin held strange colorations like a rash. He bent over her and clasped his hand to her brow. She was hotter than the flame. With a groan, she muttered his name.

"Yes, I'm here," he reassured, his fingers tracing her brow.

He adjusted her so she looked more comfortable and then centered his gaze on the ghostly apparition of swilling smoke. "Another of your games, I suspect. Poison?"

"Poison," the voice confirmed.

"External conveyance or…"

"Through your own stupidity and ego…"

"Ah, yes," his eyes fell to Tegan as she arched on the metal slab, her hands reaching out blindly. He caught one of her hands and held it while his eyes searched her face. "You've done this before; you've made her die. Why the repeat performance?"

"This time you have a choice, Doctor…"

"I should have known," he muttered and then raised his eyes to the vortex. "Hmm? What will it be? Give a regeneration for her? I've already faced that eventuality and did so willingly!"

"Nothing so simple, Doctor…" the voice rumbled. A curtain drew back on the window nearest him to reveal a matching room with another sick woman on a table.

"You don't know what planet you're on, my dear errant Time Lord. That woman in there could be your own mother. She could be the President of the Nine, the force that kept the Daleks at bay. She could be anyone, anywhere. She is poisoned with the same material your Tegan is…and between them is one antidote. Sure death will occur to the one it isn't administered to….whom do you choose?"

The Doctor's eyes watched the other woman. He could feel the press of time, the influx and mixing of time lines. The woman could have been anyone…probabilities swirled around her and touched his mind. The lead weight of anguish squeezed his throat, and pain was in his hearts. And then probability disappeared, possibility diminished until it collapsed into a singularity.

He turned to Tegan and swept her sweaty hair away from her brow.

"I cannot willingly participate in her death. That is a certainty. You've presented me with a challenge to my dogma and a challenge to my person. Which do you think would win, abomination? Where is the antidote?"

"How will you live with yourself?" The voice taunted. "You could be shaping-"

"The only certainty I can shape is my own life," the Doctor said as he took the vial.

"And if it was your life – all those thousands you could never help…all those worlds?"

The Doctor slowed and glanced down at Tegan's writhing body before he fixed his gaze on the apparition. :And what do I say of myself if I don't help a friend? Hmm?" He shook his head and levered Tegan away from the bed and slipped his leg beneath her head. As he stilled her arms, he opened the vial. "If I can travel the Universe and not help a woman whom I call friend, what sort of person am I? No no…" he emphasized.

"Emotions…"

"Are what life is all about," the Doctor finished, his voice powerful. He cupped Tegan's cheek and opened her mouth. "Come on, Tegan…bottom's up…"

"You are willing death on another."

"I'm willing life on one. If this were another place, another time, if I were assured that I could and would be given the chance…I would slow the effect of the poison in Tegan and synthesize the antidote with great effort. This, however, is not a situation in which I am giving any other choice…any other possible exit and I must make a choice. The question should be, given those instances: how could I wish death on Tegan?"

The Doctor poured the liquid between Tegan's lips and tilted her neck to allow her to swallow. He only had to wait a moment to see her eyes blinked and open, lucid and bright. He smiled gently.

"You could have sacrificed the entire Universe…."

With a grunt the Time Lord speared the now thick column of smoke with a glare.

"I saved a friend."

Tegan blinked her eyes at him. His hands still cupped the solid heat of her cheeks. After two breaths, he felt the pace of his beating hearts slow. They also found themselves in the center of a spinning vortex.

"You've failed," the Doctor shouted gleefully. "You've lost."

Tegan's hand touched his and he locked gazes with her. "Cripes, Doc, that-"

"Could have been anyone, Tegan…" he responded, yelling into the immense sound of the force of nature around them. "There was no choice given, but where there's a will-"

As he spoke, shouting, silence crashed down around them. He took a deep breath and lowered his hands from her face. Then, squinting, he surveyed the heavens. "Where there's life, there's hope; where there's a will there's a way, Tegan. He only gave me choices of death."

"Could you-" she started again and then sighed. Her voice sounded uncertain. "Could you have chosen the other way?"

His gaze returned to her. After a long moment, he shook his head. "I wouldn't, no. I could never risk your death, not willingly."

Tegan gave him a wide smile. In response, he became embarrassed and shifted his weight. After he cleared his throat, he looked around the area. "He can still find us, Tegan; we should move."

"But," she began as he took her hand again and pulled her along behind him. "But that time was so strange…it…he…"

"Do you question yourself, Tegan? Your actions, your decisions?"

"Sometimes."

He nodded and stepped over another jut of crystal and helped her down to the new level. "Ah, well…we all do, Tegan, in certain times. Did you question or feel bad that you made the decision you did?"

"No."

With a smile, he turned to her. "He counted on our self-doubt, on our regret of our actions and to hate ourselves in the process. It would have defeated us from the inside; he tried to get us to cause our own pain."

Tegan shook her head. "Hell, he-"

The Doctor gave a short snort of a laugh. "No, Miss Tegan, he doesn't know you very well, nor does he completely understand me."

After a half an hour, Tegan saw the breach of the Vortex. It was like a thousand fireflies dancing in an oil slick. "How beautiful."

"Yes, well, it will be a tad more dangerous than fireflies," he said casually. "But it is our only way out." The Doctor led her to it, slowly and as they neared, she felt him slip his arm around her waist. Then, as they stood on the brink of the fireflies, he slid his other arm around her shoulders.

It didn't feel awkward, she thought, to be enfolded in him. She slid his arms around his waist and heard him humph in response. "Now what?"

"We travel," his voice rumbled through his chest. "This is where it gets tricky."

"Bring it on," she muttered as the Doctor closed his eyes and took the last step to the vortex. As they were pulled bodily into the fireflies, she found she wasn't scared at all.


End file.
